


Hell to Pay

by what_fun



Category: Deadpool (Movieverse), Spider-Man (Marvel Cinematic Universe)
Genre: Deadpool is younger, Detectives, Eventual Romance, Eventual Smut, M/M, Slow Burn, Spider-Man is older, but not Detective AU, like mid 20s, like mid 30s
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-19
Updated: 2019-04-19
Packaged: 2020-01-16 17:00:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,130
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18525793
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/what_fun/pseuds/what_fun
Summary: _____In the beginning...The merc Wade Wilson was cast out of heaven and condemned to rule hell for all eternityUntil he decided to take a vacation..._____Deadpool and Spider-Man loosely follow the plot of Lucifer (the Prime series), featuring many characters from their respective universe(s)You don’t need to have seen Lucifer to enjoy this, but even if you have I can’t guarantee you will!_____Basically Deadpool and Spider-Man become impromptu detectives, solving murders as civilians, and trying to conceal their “superhero” status from the other whilst working closely.Very closely.Though maybe not as close as they’d like._____





	Hell to Pay

 

_I was walking down the street when out the corner of my eye I saw a pretty little thing approaching me..._

 

Deadpool nodded his head to the music on the radio, legs crossed on the dashboard, sitting in the front of beloved Dopinder’s taxi.

 

_She said I never seen a man who looks so well alone, you could use a little company..._

 

“Dopinder, I’ve seen blind Al move faster than this. And she’s _blind_.” He crossed his arms, he had people to put bullets in, money to collect, an eternity to waste.

“I’m sorry Pool Sir, but since returning to the law I must stick to it! And speed limits are an essential part of our society when it comes down to it...”

Deadpool zoned out about then, and stared out the window. A woman with a pram was walking along the sidewalk faster than them.

He sighed.

“Dopinder, I’m going to be honest with you; if you don’t drive faster, I’m going to get out of the taxi and I’m not going to get back in. I mean it. No more crisp high-fives.”

“But Mr Pool Sir!”

He rested a hand on Dopinder’s shoulder solemnly.

“Sometimes when you love someone very much you have to let them go, I can’t believe I just quoted Brendon Urie.”

Dopinder turned to him for a second, confused. “You’ll leave behind your trusted side-kick?”

“Yes, y- I never called you that, but yes.”

Dopinder slammed his foot on the accelerator, and the car sped forwards, overtaking a row of three cars at once.

This was more like it.

 

When Deadpool heard the faint sound of a police siren in the distance, he leaned forward to turn up the music, and rested his hands behind his head.

 

_He said there ain’t no rest for the wicked..._

 

Deadpool rolled his eyes as he saw the police motorcycle driving alongside the taxi, sirens and all.

Dopinder glanced at him worriedly, but Deadpool gestured over to the sidewalk to pull over.

 

_And money don’t grow on trees..._

 

They stopped by the side of the road, and the officer next to them, music still blaring.

Dopinder was looking more than a little anxious, but to his surprise, Deadpool reached over his friend to wind down his window.

“Be back in just a tic.” And opened the passenger door to get out.

He twisted round, and leaned over the top of the taxi at the policeman, who was seemingly unfazed by the sight of a man entirely covered in black and red leather.

“Can you turn the music down, sir.”

Deadpool smiled sweetly and ducked back into the car to turn the volume dial down a touch.

He resurfaced.

“Do you know why I pulled you over?”

Deadpool grimaced, he really did have somewhere to be.

“Sir?” The officer urged.

The merc fought the urge to reach for his blades. He was good now; he needed to make Yukio proud.

“My apologies.” He said, grabbing one of his guns and pulling himself over the top of the taxi.

He rolled over it, shooting the front wheel of the police motorbike halfway, and came out of his roll next to the policeman’s face.

The officer took a swipe to grab him, but he whacked his gun at the side of the motorcycle helmet. Hard.

The man fell down, knocked out, and Deadpool slid back into the cab via Dopinder’s window; over his lap, and onto his seat.

Deadpool rubbed his hands together excitedly, turning the music back up to full.

“Onwards, my faithful friend.”

“And upwards.” Dopinder added, pulling into the road, carefully avoiding the officer, and sped off down the street.

“Yes, Dopinder, and upwards.”

 

_He said there ain’t no rest for the wicked..._

_And money don’t grow on trees..._

 

 

As the car pulled away from the sidewalk, the masked figure crouched on the roof above watched.

He leapt down to the road and moved the police officer out of the way of the cars speeding past, propping him up against a parked car.

The figure turned to look as the tail end of the taxi disappeared round a corner, then pulled himself up onto the nearest rooftop, the silver webs illuminated red in the light of the evening sun.

 

 

* * *

  

 

It was foggy and grey the next day, when Deadpool pushed open the door to Sister Margaret’s, pulling off his mask and slumping onto a bar stool.

“How’s it going, fuckface?” He addressed the bartender.

“Who shat on your patio? And out of the two of us, I think you’re more medically classified as a fuckface, so don’t throw that at me.”

Wade rolled his eyes and turned his back to Weasel, idly watching a fight start to break out in the corner of the room.

He’d been out all night and all day trying to track down and kill a slippery snake of a trafficker.

 _“Two hour job, max.”_ Weasel had said.

Wade tossed his gold card behind him, and grabbed the pint of whatever Weasel had just finished pouring, taking a swig.

“Oi!” Weasel exclaimed, but just grabbed another glass to replace it.

The door to the bar swung open with a slam, and the room turned to look, and went suspiciously silent.

Wade leant over to see what was out there, and rolled his eyes for what felt like the fortieth time that day.

The doorway was blocked by grey metal, more specifically a grey metal man.

Wade stood up and saluted Weasel wearily, then made his way to the door.

“How’s it hanging, big guy?”

“Wade.”

Colossus moved to the side so they could talk on the sidewalk.

“You said you wouldn’t kill innocent people anymore.”

Wade cast his mind back, but drew a blank.

“I said that? Sure. Pretty certain I haven’t broken it recently though.”

“There’s a policeman in hospital because of you. You need to come with me to the manor, now.”

Wade sighed, “He didn’t die, no promises broken.”

“That’s not the problem, the problem is he almost did, and he was just stopping you for speeding.”

“Fine fine I get it.” Wade walked back into the bar, waving a hand over his shoulder at Colossus.

“Wade, listen to me.” A metal hand clamped down on his arm, and he reluctantly turned to listen. “Don’t do this. I know you can do the right thing, I remember the night you saved Russell.”

Wade looked right at Colossus. “I get it, I’m reformed. But I’m not coming with you.”

And he walked back into the bar, the hustle and bustle music to his ears after the cold silence outside.

 

 

* * *

 

 

He left the bar surprisingly early, not in the mood for drinking himself shitfaced for once after his talk with Colossus.

Wade had barely got a few metres before a voice kicked up behind him.

“Hey!”

And a scuffle, then louder,

“Hey, Wade!”

He turned round to see his kiwi friend hurrying towards him.

“Well look who it is, my man Firefist!” Wade chuckled, the name still hadn’t stuck.

“How are ya?” The boy asked, walking alongside the mercenary.

“The usual. Alive.”

Russell laughed at that. “We’d be in trouble if not. I don’t think NTW’s gonna let you die at anyone’s hand but hers.”

Oh yeah, Wade had forgotten Russell had stayed with the X-Men for a while. Come to think of it, Russell had pretty much dropped of the radar for the last few months.

“And how are you?”

“Yeah yeah alright. Mind if I grab a drink?”

“Go for it.”

 

They found themselves not long after in a McDonalds open late, sipping milkshakes in the corner.

“So, you gonna tell me why you were outside the most dangerous bar in New York City at night?”

“Oh... yeah...” Russell fiddled with the bottom of his coat. “I was just thinking... Mutants are okay, right? I get that we should be equal and everything but what if we endanger humans?”

Russell looked at Wade worriedly, then back at his milkshake, stirring it with his straw creeping faster and faster in circles. “Is this really the right thing to be doing? Using our powers?”

Wade opened his mouth to speak but Russell kept on, his hand stirring the drink with ever increasing speed as he panicked, ”I mean my ability is just destruction, really. And I’m so much more likely to hurt civilians than baddies if I use it. Basically I’m just gonna hurt people.”

Wade grabbed his friend’s hand, the drink toppling to the floor and spilling over the cheap acrylic.

Russell was silent.

“I took a bullet for you last year, Russell, you owe me a favour.” Wade’s voice was smooth, and quiet.

The boy shrunk back further, but nodded, scared.

“You should be scared, because what I’m about to ask you is quite difficult.”

With Wade’s other hand he reached down to turn Russell’s chin from the milkshake on the floor to his own face. He fixed him with a piercing glare and held his hand firmly in his own. The room was silent, the air thick with tension.

Russell’s doubts had clearly been building up for some time, only to spill over now. Where had he been?

“Pull yourself together.”

Still looking like a rabbit in the headlights, Russell nodded cautiously.

“You’re wasting your abilities, your life. We need you on the team to bring down the baddies. You’re invaluable to us.” He reached over to encase the boy in a hug.

He wrapped his arms around him, and they stayed like that, over the small table, for a while.

After a minute or so, Wade could feel his friend sobbing into his hoodie. He patted his back, “Hey, hey, it’s alright.”

 

It was about 10 minutes later that McDonalds closed, and the pair found themselves walking down the street they had come down earlier.

Russell wiped his face with his sleeve, and there was a resolute pause.

“I’m going to do as you asked, I’m gonna get it together.”

“I know you will, kid,” he turned to him, “you’re stronger than you think.”

Russell smiled at Wade with gratitude, and Wade felt a surge of pride for his mentee.

“Anyway, you should definitely be getting home. Have you seen the time?!” Wade gestured towards the Adventure Time watch on his wrist with disbelief, and Russell smiled.

“See ya, kid.”

He pulled the boy into another hug.

Russell spoke up quietly, muffled by the hoodie, “Wade, thank you. I’ll try to be better.”

Time slowed down for Wade, and he felt his own heart beat once, then he saw the gun in the reflection of the glass in front of him. The car sped past, the gun pointed out the back window firing bullet after bullet.

The first thing he heard was the glass smashing behind him, then the sound of Russell’s body hitting the ground. He followed just after, and saw the car cut in front of a line of others at high speed, overtaking another when a bus came out of nowhere, smashing into the car head on.

 

Wade gasped deeply and sat up, bullet holes already healing over.

Watching him, two unmoving glassy eyes. In an unmoving body.

He leaned over, gently pressing his hand to Russell’s cheek, then down to his neck.

No pulse.

He blinked. This couldn’t be happening.

Wade felt fire fill his body and he leapt up, running towards the mangled car in the middle of the road.

He looked through a glassless window where the gun came from, and saw a man, blood spreading around a head wound.

He was still.

“Oh no. No no no. Not yet.” He reached in and grabbed the man, shaking him roughly.

He gasped and jerked towards the merc.

“What did you do?” Wade asked. He didn’t mean to sound so quiet, so scared.

“I’m sorry.” The man gasped.

“Sorry?” He asked, incredulous. “Why did you end his life?”

The man stared up at him with dying eyes in a bloody face.

“Why else?” He spat. “Money.”

“Money.” Wade echoed, and exhaled, looking back at the slumped corpse on the road for a second. Not again.

He dragged his eyes back to the man in the car, and grabbed a katana from his back, holding it to the man’s throat.

“Hey man, I just pulled the trigger!”

He took in a rasped breath, and his body slumped down into the seat.

The mercenary threw him back, putting away his katana, and looking around him as he heard sirens approaching.

 

 

Wade stood over a body.

Blood covered the smashed glass on the ground, and on it lay the body of his friend.

 

 

 

Russell was going to change.

 

He was going to save the world with them.

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Hi there, do let me know your thoughts on this.  
> Constructive criticism very welcome!
> 
>  
> 
> And erh... sorry...


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